What Stays The Same
by Rookblonkorules
Summary: Damian has a problem with Barbara. A big one. Dick wants to get to the bottom of it.


**Disclaimer:** Batman and related characters are property of DC Comics and do not belong to me.

* * *

"What about this one?"

Barbara frowned critically at the dress Stephanie held up for her inspection.

"Maybe something with a little less… lace?" Barbara suggested

She ran her fingers experimentally down the length of one gown.

Less lace for sure. Not to mention it might be a little… impractical.

It was gorgeous, but… really, what was she going to do with a train like _that_ with her wheelchair?

She'd hate to think of what might happen if part of the skirt got caught in her chair's wheels- and she was certain that it would get caught under the wheels if she were unwise enough to choose it.

Even if she bunched it on the seat behind her- that would kind of defeat the purpose of a train, wouldn't it?

Sighing almost regretfully, Barbara turned away from the dress and wheeled her way down the aisle.

She wasn't here to feel sorry for herself though. So maybe she could wear that one… there were plenty of others to choose from.

"Okay, so…" Stephanie had replaced the first gown and was rummaging through the others.

"Careful," Barbara reminded her.

"This one?"

"Um…"

"You're not even looking!" Stephanie accused from behind her.

Barbara winced. "Sorry, Steph," she apologized, backing her chair around till she could get a look at the dress.

"Uh… how about something that won't require me to use a corset?" she suggested, a small smile tugging the corner of her lips.

"I'm sure they come in… other sizes?" Stephanie offered.

"No." Barbara shook her head. "I don't think so. Thanks for trying though."

She redirected her chair and continued her way down the rest of the aisle.

Behind her, hangers clattered as Stephanie hurried to replace the dress on its rack.

"Well, you can't blame a girl for trying," she complained as soon as she'd caught up. "And I swear… this is worse than shopping for my mom."

Barbara slowed, angling her head to give the younger girl an odd look. "You shop for your mom?"

Stephanie halted abruptly. Then she shrugged a little awkwardly. "I mean _with_ her. You know… mother-daughter sort of thing. It's… I mean, we've been trying… to get out more together."

Barbara allowed herself to smile, relaxing back against her chair. "That's fine, Stephanie," she said warmly. Honestly, she just wished she had gotten more time to do things like that with _her_ mom.

But her mother… No. This was a happy day and she _wasn't_ going to let thoughts like that bother her.

Not today.

"Uh… Barbara?" A hand tentatively rested on her shoulder.

"I'm okay," Barbara assured her. She thought of a cowardly woman, with red hair bright as her own, and a little boy with cold eyes who never smiled.

And now she was… Barbara could hardly believe it… she was getting married.

She wondered

She looked Stephanie in the eyes and she smiled, fighting back the rising bitterness. "Just… old memories coming back to me."

"Oh." Stephanie paused at that. Then, "Good or bad?"

Barbara thought about that.

Sure, her memories of her mother and brother were tainted by what they had become, by what they had done, but… there still had been those good times when they had all four been a family.

"Both."

They had slowed to a casual pace, Stephanie tucking her hands in her pockets. "Ah…" There was an awkward silence between them.

"Stephanie," Barbara said gently, drawing the younger girl's attention back to herself, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to…" Stephanie started but Barbara cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"This is going to be a happy day," she said firmly. "Let's go find that dress."

* * *

"Did you find one? You were gone long enough."

Dick stooped to plant a kiss on his fiance's cheek.

"First of all… hey! Picking out a dress is important! And I had that kid with me." Barbara inclined her head towards Stephanie. "Did you really think we wouldn't be long?"

"Hey!" Stephanie suddenly realized that she had been included in the conversation.

"And secondly, well… that's for me to know and you to find out, Hunk Wonder," Barbara teased.

"Really?" Dick flashed her a wounded look. "I don't get to see?"  
Barbara pretended to think on it.

"How about I try it on later and let you see?" she offered. "We can see if it's up to your standards."

Dick laughed. The sound was hearty and _warm_ and it lit up a glow in Barbara's chest. "Babs, you could look like you dressed in a barn and I'd still have eyes for only you."

Barbara experimented with the mental image and frowned. "That sounds… unattractive," she said, but she tugged him closer, taking his hands in both of hers. "But I'm flattered anyways."

 _And madly in love with you._

"Yuck!" Stephanie good-naturedly decided to make her presence noticed.

Dick's head snapped up as if he'd only just remembered that the other girl was present, but she was already leaving.

"Get a room you two!" she called as a last departing gesture.

"In case you didn't realize," Dick called after her, "that's what you do when you get married."

He turned back to Barbara and shrugged helplessly. "Kids. What can you do?"

"What can you do," she agreed.

* * *

To say that Damian was angry was an understatement.

He was furious.

And he was making that very clear.

With his sword.

The last pieces of the training dummy fell to the mat before him and he sheathed his weapon, turning his back on the dismembered bit of equipment.

He would have to get a new one.

"Does Bruce know you're playing with that?"

The voice came from behind him.

 _Brown._

The infuriating, half-wit protege of Gordon's who had at least proven herself to be _somewhat_ capable in the field.

If Damian were being generous.

Which he wasn't.

Especially not after… not when she was _supporting_ that preposterous match between Gordon and his brother.

And Father… Father was even worse.

He hadn't spoken a word- not one word- against this whole proposal.

In fact, it was probably accurate to say that the pair of them had his _blessing_ even.

It wasn't _fair!_

Who did that witch Gordon think she was?

Inserting herself into _his_ life, _his_ family?

His fists clenched. He had an urge to grasp his sword, to feel its comforting weight in his hand as he used it slice through _anything_ , preferably the knot that would be binding his brother to this ludicrous relationship.

"Um…"

Brown again.

He realized that, unconsciously, he had reached for the hilt of his sword.

Regretfully, Damian dropped his hand back down, away from his weapon.

Unfortunately, he had promised his elder brother that he would be refraining from _killing_ anyone.

He settled for giving her the death glare.

 _If looks could only kill…_

He wondered if maybe that would be going against his promise, but then again… maybe that didn't count.

"What do you want, Brown?" he demanded.

"An explanation maybe?" she suggested with a shrug.

Damian bristled. "I don't owe you anything."

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But Dick's upstairs getting ready to get married and you're… what?" She wrinkled her nose at the training dummy. "Beheading dolls now?" She nudged a detached arm with her toe and gave him the "Does Grayson know what his baby brother's been doing?" look. "You need help."

"Don't we all?" Damian sneered.

Brown didn't even blink. He had to give her some credit. "Touche."

"My tolerance is wearing thin. I suggest that you get to the point of your visit before I lose patience with your idiocy."

He brushed past her. He ignored the sword hanging at his hip. He'd go up anyways. Let Grayson say what he wanted, but he wouldn't stay down her and be lectured by _Brown_ of all people!

"Fine!" Brown tossed her arms in the air, the perfect picture of exasperation. She had been practicing clearly. It was almost comical.

She spun around so that she was facing him again.

Damian felt a bout of satisfaction that _she_ was the one who had to turn to face _him._ He artfully resisted the urge to smirk.

It wouldn't do to encourage her with any sort of reaction.

He stopped and slowly half-turned, his foot on the first step of the Batcave steps.

It wasn't hard to feign disinterest.

She jabbed a finger accusingly in Damian's direction. "Your brother," she said, "is getting married. And you're down here doing… what?" She gestured to the broken dummy. "Have you even congratulated him yet?"

Damian's spine stiffened. His fists clenched down by his side. He could feel his nails biting into the flesh of his palm.

"Or have you just been moping?"

His temper failed him.

"You have no right to be lecturing me, Brown!"

He spun around on his heels.

"Or have you forgotten which one of us is the failed Robin?" he seethed, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper.

The remark was meant to sting.

He could see that it had succeeded.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke.

Damian glared, breathing hard.

Brown stared in wide-eyed shock.

It was a staring match, a contest of wills.

And Damian would win.

Then, he exhaled. "That," he admitted. He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. Whether it was out of some sense of shame or pride, he didn't know, "was uncalled for."

When Brown finally spoke again, she surprised him.

"I don't pretend that this is any of my business…"

And Damian nearly bristled all over again.

"Or…" she started to amend her statement, then changed her mind and began anew. "Look. I'm not saying that you have to talk to _me_ about this, but… whatever's come between you and Dick-and _maybe_ it has to do with Barbara, maybe it doesn't, but... he… he at least deserves that you make an effort to talk it out."

* * *

He had intended to take Brown's words to heart.

Upon his honor, he really had.

He just hadn't expected to run into _her_ before he found Grayson.

The door opened just as he walked by.

He should have kept going. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to talk to her.

But seeing her… he was reminded all at once exactly _why_ he was angry.

Gordon stopped as soon as she saw him. One hand remained around the doorknob. The other rested almost-casually on the armrest of her wheelchair.

Her expression went from shocked to downright wary.

He still had the sword at his side.

Resentment boiled inside him.

Did she really think he might run her through right here in the Manor?

"Damian," she said carefully.

* * *

She took a deep breath.

Barbara hadn't missed the way Damian had been acting.

She didn't share Bruce's title of "World's Greatest Detective," but she was intelligent in her own right.

She rarely saw him during the many times she was present at the Manor and, well, when she did… his hostility wasn't outright _open_ , but it was very much _there._

There was no doubt in her mind that the boy was… less than pleasant.

In fact, his demeanor was very much _un_ pleasant and oftentimes downright murderous if she were to believe both Tim and Stephanie… and Barbara felt herself inclined to do so.

After all… the child had been raised by Talia al Ghul. He had been reared amongst the League of Assassins.

Should it really come as any surprise then?

But… the kid was also ten.

And he was getting better.

He was _trying_ and Dick was so, so _proud_ of him.

Sometimes, it was all he talked about.

And even Tim and Stephanie had confirmed it.

Damian was _improving._

So… why was he avoiding her?  
As much as she hated it, Barbara could only think of one reason for that behaviour.

And when it came to fixing it… well, she was the adult in this situation.

She moved to adjust her glasses, mustering up a warm smile (or trying to) as she did so.

"Damian…" she began…

...and he stiffened, gaze hardening, as if she'd slapped him.

Barbara stopped. Her smile was slipping.

"Damian," she tried again. She made no attempt to smile this time. "What…?"

"I…" Damian glared at her, then looked away briefly, as if he were making an attempt to control himself.

Barbara noticed his fists were clenched, his muscles trembling slightly.

And then he glared back at her again and there was nothing if not pure, unmitigated _fury_ at her shining in his eyes.

If she had been physically capable of doing so, Barbara would have stumbled back from the force of it.

As it was, she felt her jaw drop.

"Do you have any idea what you've _done?"_ he hissed. "You've got Grayson wrapped around your finger! And you…!"

His face was growing steadily redder.

Barbara tried to think up the words to answer, but… she fell short.

She wasn't sure that anything she could say could possibly help Damian through this, but… she was starting to see the issue.

"Damian…" She tried again to quietly insert herself.

Raising her voice would do no good. Not in this situation.

Damian went on as if she hadn't spoken at all.

"You're _not_ a part of this family, Gordon," he told her harshly. "And marrying yourself in won't change that. You will _never_ be worthy! Grayson deserves better than you!"

Barbara sucked in a sharp breath. The words felt like they had been a punch to the gut.

It didn't matter. They shouldn't matter.

They were just words.

Words spoken by a hurting and jealous ten year old boy who didn't have any other way to deal with his pain and anger than to lash out.

She, the apparent source of his anger, was the convenient scapegoat.

It still didn't make what he said hurt any less.

"Damian?"

The voice that spoke from the doorway was surprised and more than a little disappointed.

 _No. Not disappointed. Hurt. He was hurt too._

Barbara raised her eyes.

Dick was standing in the doorway, but he wasn't looking at her.

He was looking straight at Damian.

Barbara didn't miss the stricken look that passed over the boy's face before it was quickly replaced by one of defiance.

"Damian…" Dick spoke again. His voice was softer this time, but a touch of anger shone from his eyes. "You need to stop," he continued, but Damian had already swept by him, vanishing from the room.

* * *

"Dick."

Barbara reached out, catching Dick's shirtsleeve and stopping his pacing almost immediately.

"He's usually a good kid, Barbara," Dick said and it hurt her, physically hurt her, to see how distraught he was. "After everything with his mother… what she taught him, had him do… if you could see how much progress he's made…"

"Dick," Barbara said again, more firmly this time. Still, her voice and her eyes were gentle."I know."

Dick stopped, giving himself time to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "He shouldn't have said those things to you. He… I've told him..."

"I'm not going to pretend that what he said was okay."

 _You're_ not _a part of this family, Gordon._

 _You've got Grayson wrapped around your finger._

 _He deserves better!_

Barbara exhaled and forced the words from her mind.

Damian was _ten._

Ten and with probably the most dysfunctional upbringing there ever had been.

"But he's ten. Ten and his world is changing."

She inhaled slowly, then let her breath back out again.

"So don't apologize for him. I might not know him, but… you're his hero, Dick. Talk to him."

* * *

Dick stood in the hallway, his hand hovering in the air by Damian's door.

Somehow, he couldn't quite bring himself to knock.

Dick was angry, yes. After hearing what Damian had said to Barbara, he couldn't _not_ be angry.

But that wasn't the way to approach this.

Yes, he was angry, but… he also knew that if he wasn't calm for this interaction, well… he could kiss whatever progress he was hoping to make with Damian today good-bye.

He brought his fist down, rapping three times in quick succession.

"Damian," he called. His voice was firm, but he kept it pleasant. Or as pleasant as he could reasonably be expected to.

 _Let him know this can be a conversation. I'm not here to yell at him. We can talk this over, find out what's going on._

But, at the core of it, he knew what was going on and he was angry at himself for not finding a way to solve this before it got to this point.

"Damian, come on. You need to let me in."  
For a moment, Dick felt a flash of fear, wondering if, perhaps, Damian had slipped through the window and disappeared off into the city.

He didn't want to spend his day chasing after a wayward brother, but, if that was what it would take, he would do it.

A muffled voice reached him through the door and Dick felt the crushing worry that had collected in his chest fade.

But he couldn't understand his brother.

"I… Dami, what?"

His eyes trailed to the doorknob.

Maybe…?

Experimentally, he grasped it, felt the knob turn with his hand. He pushed the door open, feeling somewhat sheepish.

Damian was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, glaring at him, yet looking surprisingly dignified for a ten year old child who had just lashed out at his wife-to-be like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

"I didn't lock it, Grayson." Damian's tone implied that he thought Dick was a simpleton for not figuring that out earlier.

"Yeah, well." Dick closed the door behind him, feeling weary. "How was I supposed to know? You've locked it before."

And the fact that Damian hadn't brought a whole new set of questions to the forefront of Dick's mind.

Had Damian known Dick would follow him? He had to have. Talia's parenting was questionable at best, but by now he knew what was and wasn't acceptable when it came to his interactions with other people.

Had Damian _wanted_ Dick to follow him up here?

Dick would guess that the answer to that question was a yes as well.

Whatever it was that Damian was looking for Dick to prove here… Dick hoped he'd managed it.

"Tt." Damian snorted. "You could have tried the door."

Two possible responses jumped to mind.

"I did."

And...  
"Thought you didn't like me intruding in your space, Dami."

Neither response would help their situation here, so he left them where they were.

"We need to talk," he finally said.

Damian waved a hand in the air… though Dick noticed he still wasn't making direct eye contact. "What is there to talk about?" he asked. "You're marrying Gordon." And Dick could feel the sharp sting of his words. His heart twinged. This was supposed to be a _happy_ occasion."The two of you are leaving, off to have your perfect little life together that doesn't include any of us. Any of your _real_ family."

The accusation that showed when Damian met Dick's eyes flared sharp and real.

It stopped Dick short.

Because as much as he had been expecting jealousy to be the root cause of Damian's outburst, _hearing_ the words spoken aloud was something else entirely.

In Damian's mind, Dick was his. _His_ older brother. _His_ family.

Barbara was taking that which was his away from him. Or so it seemed.

That could not be tolerated.

But it was so much more than simple, petty jealousy.

There was _fear_ hidden, tucked deep in his soul. And Damian, the boy raised to never, _ever_ be vulnerable reacted in the only way he knew how to.

The only way that was acceptable.

He lashed out, if not with his fists than with his words.

"Is that what you think?" Dick asked quietly, after a pause. "That I'm going to just… leave and forget you all? That just because I love Barbara, there isn't enough room in my heart for the rest of you?"

Damian huffed, crossing his arms and looking away.

Dick took the non-response as an answer in the affirmative.

He took a step closer.

"Can I sit down?"

Again, Damian didn't respond verbally, but he scooted almost imperceptibly to the side.

It was an invitation if he'd ever seen one.

Dick sat, slowly and carefully.

"Do you want to tell me how you feel?"

"Stop playing therapist, Grayson."

"Damian… you know what you said was terrible, right? Barbara, she's… she's a good person. She doesn't deserve to hear that. Not from you. Not from anyone. No one does."

Damian looked away, yet somehow Dick sensed that he was glaring even harder.

Yes, Damian knew that.

It didn't mean that he would ever admit it.

Sometimes progress came in small steps.

Dick was going to have to accept that.

"I don't deserve better, Damian," he admitted softly. He ignored both Damian's start of surprise and the questioning look he shot him. "I don't _want_ better," he met Damian's eyes squarely and firmly, "because what I've got is the best. Barbara, Bruce, Jason, Tim…" He paused. "You." Dick poked Damian lightly in the chest.

"You, all of you, are the best possible things to ever happen to me. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have Barbara to go home to, to keep me grounded through all of this. And I don't know what I would do," Dick's hand rested on the back of Damian's shoulder, "if I didn't have you out there by my side."

"You say that now," Damian finally ground out. He'd gone back to avoiding looking Dick in the eyes.

"And I mean that now," Dick said firmly. "Look. The most important thing I want you to know is," he gently grasped Damian's chin, turning his head to face him, "while I may love Barbara, that doesn't mean there isn't enough love in my heart for the rest of you."

Damian considered that.

Finally, he spoke, slowly. "You mean that…" It wasn't really a question, but the statement remained cautionary just the same.

He was checking.

"I mean that," Dick assured him. He dropped his hand back down to his lap.

Damian still held his gaze. He seemed to scrutinizing him, searching his expression for any sign of dishonesty.

Eventually satisfied, he sat back, lowering his gaze and studying the intricacies of the carpet.

"I see," was all he said.

"If I didn't mean that," Dick added, "would I have asked you to be the ringbearer?"

Damian scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. You never…" He stopped as it sank in. "Oh," he said, tone softer.

"Yeah." Dick grinned, clapping his hand on his shoulder. "So what do you say?"

"I'm far more suited for the position of best man."

"Yeah, well… Bruce's already got that spot filled, so… you willing?"

"Tt." Damian crossed his arms. "Fine."

Suddenly, Dick threw his arms around him, squashing him to his chest.

He didn't say anything, no cheesy, feel good one-liner to fulfill the moment, just held on tightly.

Damian squawked in indignation regardless, his arms flailing as he grabbed for his sword, his pillow, _anything_ to wield against Grayson and his _infuriating_ hugs. "Grayson, stop!"

Finally, Dick did let go.

Damian instantly scooted to the side, putting some distance between himself and Dick.

"Dami…" Dick said then.

Damian glared at him, a clear signal that there were to be _no more_ hugs.

"Fine, little D." Dick chuckled. "I get the message loud and clear. But… there is one last thing."

* * *

"So… do you think Dick is having any luck?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. Barbara didn't turn her eyes away from the screen as she addressed the girl standing to her left.

She hoped he was. For his sake.

Dick's little brothers meant the world to him.

If she had somehow taken that away…

She felt the engagement ring on her finger.

"Stop doing that." The remonstration came swiftly.

Barbara cast a tired look Stephanie's way.

"Stop what?" she asked.

"The guilt thing. They'll work it out." She offered Barbara half a smile.

Barbara placed a hand on the girl's arm. "Stephanie, I appreciate the effort…"

A throat cleared behind her and she cut herself off, repositioning her chair to face the newcomer.

Holding himself with a considerable amount of dignity, Damian stood just inside the doorway.

Now aware that he had successfully captured their attention, he lifted his chin.

"Brown, we require a sufficient amount of privacy."

Stephanie froze. "Um…" She looked to Barbara for permission.

But Barbara had found herself too baffled to grant it.

From his position just outside the door, Dick cringed. "Dami…" he chastised gently.

Damian held himself a little straighter. "Please," he corrected himself. He clenched and unclenched his fists, before finally relaxing them against his side. "I… we require privacy. Please."

"Oo-kay, then," Stephanie said slowly, unsurely. "I'll just… be gone." She cast a final look at Barbara that suggested an apology for abandoning her in her hour of need, and then quickly departed.

Barbara herself glanced Dick's way. A single eyebrow raised in the form of a question.

Dick just smiled, giving her a shrug.

Sometimes he could be infuriating.

But she loved him anyways.

"I..." here Damian cast a sort of backwards glare at Dick

Barbara blinked.

He cleared his throat.

"What I said was…" here he cast a sort of backwards glare at Dick, but at least he did seem somewhat contrite, "unacceptable."

There was a beat of silence, one in which Barbara felt it was perhaps her duty to speak up.

"Damian, I…"

But Damian interrupted her with fire in his eyes. He wasn't done yet.

"I will give you a chance, Gordon," he told her. Like a negotiator delivering an ultimatum. Or her father. And wasn't _that_ an uncomfortable comparison if there ever was one. "If you prove to be… acceptable, then I will approve of Grayson's decision to wed you."

With that, he spun on his heel, leaving the room without so much as a backwards glance.

 _Had he just…_

"That's his way of saying 'I'm sorry,'" Dick filled in, stepping over the threshold.

Barbara offered him a smile as he took a seat on the desk next to her.

"I figured," she said.

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair and standing it on end. "Not exactly what we discussed, but…" He gave her a small, helpless shrug.

"Sometimes progress comes in small steps?" Barbara supplied.

He _had_ seemed contrite.

"Yeah." Dick broke out into a smile that was at once relieved and _proud._

He _should_ be proud, Barbara thought. And of himself too. Not just Damian.

"He's making progress. A lot of it. But he thought… he thought that somehow we..." he winced, "would change what he and I had."

"I know, Dick," she said, honestly and enfolded his hands in both of hers. "Keep letting him know that you're not going anywhere."

* * *

 **Note:** Well, this is... a bit of a break from my usual Jason-centric stories. Although the other stories I write are Dibs-centered, and, yes, this does fit into that category. Somewhat.

There are several reasons why I wrote this fic.

Reason number one: I have been a huge supporter of the Dick/Barbara romance basically since the first day I picked up a Batman comic.

Number Two: I have never been a fan of Damian's. My first exposure to DC comics were the New 52 comics. I did enjoy some of them- Gail Simone's Batgirl and Scott Snyder's Batman, for example, but... I was never fond of Damian Wayne.

That kind of-sort of- maybe changed when I read Bryan Q. Miller's Stephanie Brown Batgirl books. He made me see Damian in a new light- not to mention I loved the tentative friendship he seemed to have struck up with Stephanie.

And, while I was never Damian's fan, I did love the close relationship he had with Dick (although I feel like Dick kind of... spoils him and lets behavior that _should_ be unacceptable slide). It made me wonder how Damian would feel if Dick _did_ decide to tie the knot with someone he really loved. Someone like Barbara. With Stephanie thrown in because, as mentioned before, I love the relationship they had built. Not to mention the fact that mentor!Babs is just awesome!

Okay, so... Stephanie didn't have a _huge_ part, but I couldn't exclude her- not after her book had been one of the main inspirations for this fic.

When it comes to Barbara's family history that is briefly alluded to in this fic, I drew a lot from the New 52 comics by Gail Simone. Barbara's younger brother, James Jr., grew up to become a serial killer. Her mother realized early on that something was wrong with her son and, instead of sticking by her family and finding a way to deal with it, she was afraid by what she saw in James and left them.

Anyways, enough with the rambling...

I hope you enjoyed and I would love to hear what you think!


End file.
